Darkened Stars
by tarte
Summary: Post CoLS. Canon AU. Alec is gravely injured, and Magnus, against his better judgement, agrees to try and heal him. However, he's not ready to see Alec again under any circumstance – he's especially not ready for this one, as Alec has forgotten everything. (In which Alec is hurt, Magnus saves him, and then it is up to Alec to save himself.)
1. Rush

Description: Post CoLS. Canon AU. Alec is gravely injured, and Magnus, against his better judgement, agrees to try and heal him. However, he's not ready to see Alec again under any circumstance – he's especially not ready for this one, as Alec has forgotten everything. (In which Alec is hurt, Magnus saves him, and then it is up to Alec to save himself.)

AN: I'm finally back. It's been an incredibly busy past few months, and while I have had stories musing around in my head, this one actually only hit me a couple of weeks ago.

It will be quite a bit long – I've completely finished the outline, (Which for me is basically the whole story written out in a mess of POV's and parenthesis.) I hope to get all the chapters up quick as I can – though I have yet to see how that will be.

Warnings: Mild language. That should be all. Unless you need to be warned against my ramblings at 2 in the morning.

Disclaimer: If I was Cassandra Clare, I would not be writing fanfiction – okay, admittedly, I would be, just to mess with everyone – but I'm not her.

Also, I'm up on Ao3 now! However, I believe I'll post it there tomorrow. I just had to at least post this somewhere tonight (morning, really.) My tumblr has changed too – sophie-lightwood.

Please review, it means a lot.

Enjoy!

* * *

The city at night is the most alive it ever is. It takes on its own beat, its own breath. Mostly it's loud, and colorful, and bright; there's music to be heard and taxi's to be caught on every corner, and no one really sleeps in the hearts of the state. But there are also areas in which the air is quiet, and smooth, and yet equally as vivid; equally as living. People do sleep here, which only makes it easier for the hunted and the hunters to go unnoticed.

Alec prefers this part of the city; the part of the city where he can hear anything coming up behind him, the part where they sky is possibly just a little bit clearer. Magnus, of course, liked the vibrant lights of the bustling neighborhoods, liked the thousands of people with such distinctly different lives, each and every one. But Alec likes the solitude, and the peace.

So even like this, running down dark streets in the dead of night, there is a certain peace in the fight.

Jace is leading the way, navigating through the city with a smirk on his lips and a fire in his eyes; Clary is next, and her eyes are bright and alert as well. Isabelle follow them with whip in hand and black hair swishing in a deadly rope itself, eyes so dark her pupils are faint in the dim lighting. Alec follows last, watching their backs still, bow strapped on his back, blue eyes keeping a careful watch for them all.

When they corner the demons in the warehouse and slip in one by one to finish them, he takes one quick glance up to the sky before jumping in.

* * *

"I'll take this one." Jace's grin is obvious even in the thin light.

They've dived in only to discover the demons are so much more powerful than they had expected; honestly, he's easily had his share of greater-demon encounters, but really never seems to get a break from them. To make it even better, there are 2 of them. Isabelle takes a moment to roll her eyes at Jace's enthusiasm before launching herself towards the other. Clary follows them, pulls a seraph out of her belt. Alec's so used to this he sighs.

He swings himself up, into the rafters, to keep an eye on them, and draws his bow. The fights already begun and he takes no moment of hesitation before notching the first arrow. He slips into pattern instantly, mechanically firing arrow after arrow upon every opening he gets, while his 3 companions work close range, Iz taking one and Jace and Clary battling the other. "Nice one!" Jace calls to him, almost cheerful, when one hits the demon directly in the neck. The skin, however, is almost armor, and from far range he doesn't penetrate as much as he's wish. Instead he keeps them unbalanced, keeps them angry, while the other's steadily work them down.

But one of them catches Isabelle's whip, yanking hard, and down she goes.

It's like his body moves on its own accord, not like he would have acted differently even if he did have time to think about it. By instinct, he drops down, lands on his feet and stands quickly; right in front of the demon, between it and his sister. He shoots again and again, to the hand, eye, throat, heart, and down it goes.

Jace and Clary rush to Iz, helping her up, and Alec turns toward them; for a split second everyone forgets there is one demon left, and that split second is all it takes. There's a sudden, terrible _rip_, and Alec is suddenly consumed by searing pain. His sibling turn around in shock to see Alec speared through completely by one sharp claw.

In turn, their shocked expressions are the last things Alec sees before he is hurled against the far wall.

His head hits hard, his chest is open and his bones are broken, but he doesn't feel any of it for a moment; instead he sees Jace, Iz, Clary, and others; not screaming in the distance as he distantly comprehends they're doing now, but smiling, laughing, looking peaceful. He sees Magnus; he sees a smile and a light in his eyes that was specially his. Then all he can see is red, and all he can feel is blinding pain, and then he blacks out.

* * *

The scream is out of Clary's mouth before she realizes it's hers. She surges up, reaches for the knife at her side, hurls it deep into the last demon, watches Jace finish it off with the same surge of energy she feels now; together, the 3 of them run to Alec.

There's blood everywhere, splattered onto the wall and pooling underneath Alec. There's what she thinks is bone sticking out of Alec's leg, which, she distantly thinks, can definitely not mean good. He's lying against the cold, gray, stone wall, his eyes are closed and from his face he could almost be sleeping, if she disregarded the gaping hole in his chest. Jace goes straight to his brother, shouts at him, his name, "_ALEC!_" to wake him up without any expectation he will. He starts drawing runes with a hand he's concentrating heavily on to keep steady. Isabelle uses the same level of concentration to punch numbers into her phone and call for help, her hand and voice shaking but not nearly as much as it would had she not been suppressing all the panic she can. And Clary, Clary had a sudden, overwhelming flashback of another time when they had seen Alec lying broken, but she fights through it and helps Jace with the aid, tearing off her jacket to press it as gently but firmly to Alec's chest as she can.

"Here." She hands Jace her own seraph, his already slick with blood and sweat. He takes it without a word, and she wipes his on her shirt before taking it to Alec's other arm, gently, so gently, creating the now well-known pattern on his skin with the lightest pressure she can manage. She looks again to Jace. "He's going to be okay." She speaks with all the conviction she can manage. He still doesn't answer, keeping his eyes on Alec's face.

A car arrives; they drive as fast as they can (Just like last time, she thinks), each second weighing so heavily; they rush Alec into the institute on a stretcher, not a single pause, and carry him into the infirmary. In the pale colors and lighting of the room the wounds are just so much more visible and it makes her a little sick. Still she stays by his side, as do his siblings; there are a few other shadowhunters currently present in the institute, by some fortune, and healers are suddenly next to them, taking over, handing her back her black shadowhunter jacket now soaked in blood, while she thinks, I have no idea what to do with this. Alec's body is acting on its own accord, now lying on the white bed, sheets quickly stained; jerking and spastic every few minutes, deathly still next. All the while, his eyes remain shut.

"Will he be okay? Will he be okay?" Isabelle is shouting at the healers, who ignore her for the most part, already focused on Alec without asking any questions.

The three of them are ushered out of the room; they put up quite a shouting argument but are eventually shut out. They are told, by one adult with sympathy and pity in her eyes, "We cannot do anything with you hovering. We will do what we can."

Clary hugs an agitated Jace, runs a hand through his golden hair, while he does the same with her fire red. They breathe together, and she briefly relaxes into his warmth, fitting against him, still in their fighting gear. There is nothing they can do at the moment, and for the moment they are resigned to it. For them, however, that never lasts long.

* * *

The door shouldn't be ringing. It is so irritating in the fact that it is that Magnus decides to ignore it. Being him, though, he can't keep it up for too long; or the caller is just particularly insistent.

He stretches his arms up, from where he's lying on his bed, in jeans and a loose jersey tank; his hair isn't styled and there are the remnants of glitter on his eyes that he couldn't be bothered to wash off earlier. He's been a mess these past couple of weeks – ever since he walked away from Alec – occupying his time with a haphazard mix of shutting himself in his apartment, drinking, and attending party after party, drinking. Either way, he's spent the majority of the time drunk. His head still hurts less than his heart, he thought mournfully one of these nights, and then cursed himself for thinking it.

Either way, he's been miserable and trying to forget it. His friends are worried about him, he would be worried about himself if he had any energy left to care, but no one can really do anything for him anyway, so he seems bent on just living out whatever post break up depression he's in and wait till it's gone enough to regain some of his energy, a spark of himself. He knows how folly this notion is; at the moment, he really just doesn't care. But as time goes by, instead of forgetting Alec he's only reminded more strongly of him; he only gets more restless, more inclined to pick up on the calls that Alec had been sending (Which had recently declined.) Last night, while out, he hadn't drank nearly as much as he been lately; today, he decided to take for himself.

That is, he would, if whoever was both ringing the bell and pounding on the door would just _stop doing so_.

From the bedroom, it is more distant; but it simply won't stop. He's guessing it's someone with Magic capabilities; after all, he's got an electrical current running through the doorbell.

"MAGNUS BANE!"

No. It isn't.

Oh, he supposes he should have known this would come; he's rather surprised it took them this long to get over to him. After all, they had threatened him with everything under the sun when he'd first started openly dating Alec, all if-you-hurt-our-brother's and the like. He debates whether or not to answer them; he takes a minute, and then decides it's better to just get it over with, that maybe it might help him in a way. He does a quick once over in the mirror; even sleepless, he is Magnus Bane, and though he's in one of those rare moods where he can't be bothered much by the way he looks he still looks better than most people can claim to regularly. He makes his way to the door, picking his way through his chaotic apartment (Which had been stripped of much anything blue); not in a rush, Isabelle's shouts just irritating and a little breaking. He opens the door to find Isabelle, Jace, and Clary standing in his entrance.

Isabelle stands in front; it's the first time they've seen each other in 2 weeks and he sees that understanding quickly register in her eyes, but she pushes past it and immediately starts at him again. "What took you so long?" She's irritated as well, and now Magnus can see, restless and – scared.

He doesn't mention it. "God, what do you want?" He leans against the frame, same way he had when first meeting them, only then he had worn a slightly amused smile and this time he makes no effort to hide the tiredness and annoyance on his face. Of course, then, a blue-eyed shadowhunter had been with them, and this time he is conspicuously absent.

Izzy – for, he thinks with a bit of a jab in his chest, he had begun to think of her by that name - seems almost for a minute like she's about to scream, biting her lip, and on closer inspection she seems almost terrified, of something or whatnot; this time it's Jace who speaks, stepping forward to stand level with Izzy. "We need your help." He says bluntly, and though his voice is steady and firm Magnus sees the same panic pushed down inside him.

"And here I thought you were finally coming to scream at me on your brother's behalf." He speaks a bit bitingly, and before they can answer, he continues, "And instead you actually come back for another favor? Why would I help you?" He's really not up to this.

Izzy looks again like she has much she'd like to say to that – again, she seems to fight it down, and takes a breath. Interesting. Mildly. "We are here about Alec." Oh.

He does his best to look uncaring. "You need my help about Alec?"

They're all silent, and he suddenly starts getting angry. "And I would help you with that – why? Why now, do you really think you can –"

"Alec's dying." Izzy blurts it out like she doesn't want to believe it herself.

Just like that, things change. He suddenly gets the fear in their eyes, the pain; their defiant but slightly broken postures. "What?"

Just like that, the strong, defiant Isabelle looks like she might cry.

Clary, who he noticed hadn't spoken yet, takes over. "A couple days ago we went hunting – Alec got hurt, badly – he's been in the infirmary ever since, and he hasn't woken up. We've been told they're keeping him stable but we can tell it's not true. There's been no improvement, and he's getting worse. They can't take him to Idris now, not with Jonathan being a threat, the silent brother's are apparently incredibly busy with something we're not yet informed of, and the New York shadowhunters have to leave for council, they can't get around it. So," She breathes deep. "He'll die."

This races through his mind, and he's hit by his own shot of panic, because even with so few details he can picture Alec lying still and damaged in that institute, an image that he is all too familiar in real life and he has unwillingly imagined on several times. He closes his eyes for a beat, staying composed. "And?"

This time it's Jace to snap. "And? He's dying. We need your help. We need you to heal him, to goddamn make him live. Will you do that?"

Their eyes meet, and both are a mixture of fire and ice. "We are broken up," Magnus says as flat as he can manage. "So it seems you might look elsewhere than me-"

"What, so because of that you won't help him?" Jace's voice is stronger now. He steps forward, and Magnus doesn't move. "That wouldn't be an excuse, even for you, even if you didn't love him anymore. As it is, I know you do."

They stare each other down. Magnus knows he's right. As much as he may hate Alec (and he wonders, does he really), he loves him more; as much as he wants to stay away (again, he's not truly sure if that's what he wants), he wants to be near him even more, and there is no way, simply no way, he can let him _die_.

"I'll go with you." He turns to grab a jacket, merely the closest one he finds, doesn't comment on Izzy's little deflate in relief, and pushes past them into the hall, the door swinging shut behind him. "Let's go."

* * *

He could take them through portal, but as he's said before, that's far too risky for such a short journey; even though with Alec is danger he feels far more inclined to risk it. Instead they simply choose to walk quickly through the streets. The sky is far too blue above them. They elaborate to him while they travel there.

"So he jumped in front of you." That's really not surprising. Izzy looks so damn upset, so he continues. "That's just Alec, isn't it." Her expression turns thoughtful.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't make it much easier for any of us." Jace's voice is almost sarcastic. Ah, much more to what Magnus is used to. In fact, he can't help but smile just the tiniest fraction. Alec always being so worried about his siblings and what was best for them, but not usually for himself.

"He never really does."

* * *

"Out of the way. _Please._" Jace and Izzy almost push their way through the institute; the shadowhunters willingly part for them, but there's no doubt they would have used force if needed. There's only a few of the nephillim left now; some still glance at Magnus a little warily. He doesn't care.

The door to the infirmary is swung open. Jace goes in first. He speaks to the sole healer quickly, who then leaves, glancing at Magnus as he does so. Then he ushers Magnus inside.

Magnus hasn't been prepared to see Alec in any kind of circumstance; he's pictured it, sure, and it's painful every time. However, even his imagination, drunk or sober, didn't conjure this one; he's always imagined Alec as conscious, and, well, much more _alive_. Seeing him now in this state, he can't breathe.

Alec's eyes are closed, his face serene; his body now mostly cleared of all blood, his chest bandaged many times, only blood still soaks through. The bright red contrast stark against his skin, even more pale than usual, which contrast with the ink black of his hair, messed around on the pillow. Even without seeing the wound itself Magnus can tell it is very, very bad. Alec is hardly breathing, his chest hardly rising. The panic must show in his eyes somehow because Jace actually squeezes his shoulder. Then anger comes, anger at the shadowhunters for not doing more to help him, for not even reaching him sooner, for leaving Alec in this state. Finally, sadness washes in; for seeing Alec lying so damaged. He doesn't comment on any of this. Best to get to work immediately.

"Out." His siblings look incredulous, so he turns to glare at them. "Now. I need to concentrate, I need to do some serious work here, I need to do it now. Leave." Though they look like they wish to protest, without a word they take his word and obey, shutting the door behind themselves. He casts off his jacket, flings it to the grounds. Focuses again on Alec. Looks at the boy he hadn't seen in two weeks, and now sees on the brink of death. Takes a deep breath, permits himself to close his eyes briefly, allowing just the shortest pause to let it all it all sink in; he's about to try to save the life of his ex boyfriend who he is still very much in love with, and it will not be any easy task. He snaps, and the bandages disappear. The blood that immediately begins pouring freezes him again for a moment, but sadly, it's nothing he's never seen before, and honestly, not too much of a stretch of what he's seen on Alec. He begins.

The initial wound has been more or less patched; the nephillim really have done what they could. Yet despite their efforts Alec is critical, and he throws himself into saving him. He can feel the magic pouring out of him and into Alec, draining him by the second but he refuses to stop. His hands move mechanically; keep the lungs moving, keep the heart beating, repair the torn muscles, replenish the blood. He concentrates intently on the movements but his eyes intermittently glance at Alec's face. After what feels like a century – and oh, he knows how those feel – Alec's pale skin has regained a bit more color, and his breathing is stronger. Finally Alec's lips part just a little and he breathes in; Magnus' shoulders finally release some of their tension. Refusing to leave any chance, he sends a final surge of magic into Alec's body. Goddamnit all, he loves the shadowhunter.

* * *

Alec gasps, his breathing relievingly, _wonderfully_ normal, and Magnus' energy completely depleted. He sinks into a nearby chair.

It's done. Alec is stabilized, he's no longer currently in danger of death, and he's also possibly bound to wake up soon, giving the amount he's slept. Magnus isn't sure what to do about that. Part of him wants to run out of there before Alec wakes, doesn't even want Alec to know it was him that had saved him – after all, he had been very firm saying _it's over_. Another part of him though just wants to see his eyes _open_ and make sure he's safe, wants to just look him in the eyes again, and he's so exhausted that he can't bring himself to move, or think past that point.

It hits him, now the danger's pass, how precarious this whole situation is. Coming here only made him miss Alec more, only increased the pain he feels in his own chest. It doesn't increase the love he feels for him – he thinks – only because he doesn't see how he can love him any more – it has, however, made him admit that. He close his eyes, thinks to himself what a _mess_ he is.

A sharp breath makes his eyes fly open.

Alec gives another sharp inhale – his eyes flicker, once then twice and then stay open. Magnus once again finds it hard to breathe and his heart is beating fast as Alec's gorgeous blue eyes, that he'd missed for so long, slowly focus. Alec weakly sits up slightly. He turns his head towards Magnus, and there it is; that piercing gaze.

Then Magnus is struck that something is wrong. Something else, despite everything already messed up between them. Alec tilts his head, and Magnus can't read the expression on his face as he can't ever remember seeing it before. Green-gold meets blue. Alec opens his mouth.

"Who are you?"


	2. Awake

AN: So. Did I say "shortly?" Apparently that can turn into a week.

I do have excuses! One, it has been a damn _hectic_ week, with little time to sit down and write (or sleep, for that matter.) Two, this chapter was the vaguest of all in my chaotic outline. (If you've been keeping up on Tumblr, you might have gotten that general sense.) In fact, I ended up writing the whole thing before re-writing large chunks in different points of view. Yes, I know. But, at least it's a longer chapter!

In better news, or, somewhat better, the next chapters are so much easier, and are full and ready, and shit starts happening, so no promises (because, oh, how those turn out,) but I should have the next one coming up much sooner. (Time being a relative thing.)

And just a little note – there are a lot of really tiny references to specific things in the TMI books. See if you can find them?

Please review! It means so much and it spurs me to write like nobody's business and it's just generally lovely.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Who are you?_

He automatically feels a bit foolish for uttering those words, but it seems as good a place to start any. After all, he hurts all over, his muscles screaming protest and his legs feeling like lead; his head is pounding, he's feeling dizzy and a tad nauseous, the room is far too bright for him to take; and he has no recollection of how he got there, he has no recollection of _anything_. He doesn't know where he is, he doesn't know why he's there, he doesn't know why he feels so weak and has a long, jagged, red scar across his chest that looks pretty recent and he's trying not to dwell on that. He doesn't know who the man is sitting at his bedside, who's studying him with a mixture of anxiety and relief and maybe sadness in his eyes, he thinks (He also thinks that the man has the most gorgeous eyes ever, then berates himself because wow, really not the time.) With a sudden, violent shock, he realizes he doesn't know who _he himself_ _is_. So he figures it's okay to say whatever the hell he wants.

But at those simple words, the man freezes. The man looks like he stops breathing, his eyes - which are golden and green and don't look completely human – widen in shock. His mouth parts slightly, but he doesn't say anything. The man's eyes ever leave his own.

Feeling vulnerable, and lost, he tries to sit up, grasping at the smooth white sheets. Pain rips through him the moment he moves, and involuntarily a sharp gasps emits from his lips. This seems to break the paralytic state of the man – who, honestly, can't be older than twenty, so almost more of a boy - who immediately leans forward, out of the chair, shifting onto the bed. The man puts a hand on his shoulder, but as soon as he touches him he pulls back hesitantly. Then, as if overriding an instinct to pull away, he puts one hand on his back and one back on his shoulder, lightly, so lightly. He helps him sit up, settling him against the pillows. His hand is warm against his skin, and this time, the man's hands linger against him, just for a moment. "Thanks", he tells him, when he's recovered enough to speak.

The man just studies him for a minute. He finds he can't read the look in his eyes. Then the man sighs, and leans back into the chair. "Least I can do for you. Well, least I've done for you, but most I can do at the moment."

He has no idea what in the world he's talking about. But his voice is smooth, an accent different from his own, he notices now, and honestly, he likes the sound – looking at the man now, taking in the caramel skin and the black, almost dark blue hair, the refined, youthful face and the unsettling eyes, he briefly wonders why the first person he sees – as he can remember no one – is so damn attractive.

He also wonders if he's in shock. He guesses that he is.

The man seems to be thinking the same idea. "My name is Magnus." His smooth voice sounds painfully casual. There are volumes unspoken in the air.

He tilts his head, not breaking the stare with – Magnus, strange name – and swallows. "Okay," He says quietly. "And who am I?"

Magnus' eyes widen again.

"Alec" and his voice is almost a whisper.

Alec feels no recognition to this name. He hadn't felt any to Magnus' either. He closes his eyes for a second, and he can feel the initial shock wearing down, he takes a deep breath. He tries to remember anything, anything at all, but it's all blank, and he can feel the hysteria rising in his throat –

"_Shit,_" Magnus swears suddenly, and quite violently, and Alec starts, opening his eyes. Magnus is getting up. Alec has the sudden urge to reach out, grab his hand, tell him to please not leave him, but he doesn't. Magnus turns to him, and this time there's a mix of frustration and bitterness but sympathy in his face.

"I'm going to get Jace and Isabelle." Alec doesn't know the names. This must show on his face because a dark shadow crosses across Magnus'. "Your siblings." He speaks softer. Then sighs.

Magnus' next words are out suddenly as if they were spontaneously brought to his lips. "I'll be back very quickly." It sounds like a promise, and there's a world of emotions Alec can't discern in that sentence. Still, it's comforting. Even more so is the equally spontaneous touch he feels on his cheek, Magnus' hand again soft and warm on his skin.

Magnus turns quickly and walk out the door. It shuts after him.

Alec just stares at nothing.

* * *

The two other Lightwood siblings are waiting in the kitchen, Isabelle sitting at a stool at the island and Jace pacing back and forth. Their heads snap up the moment he enters, and they both surge towards him. Magnus stops. He doesn't know what to say to them.

"Is he okay?" Jace demands. The tension thrums through both of them, the desperation clear in their eyes. Magnus stares back. He's feeling a mess of emotions himself, but as he's not quite sure what any of them are yet, he's sure for once that only tiredness is visible in his face.

"Yes."

They lurch toward the door, but he snags them each by an arm. "_Wait_", he hisses. They do struggle for a second, but then step back in front of him. He breathes deep. "He is awake. However –"Oh, best to get it out with. "He's completely lost his memory." Oops. That let out more emotion than he wanted.

The Lightwoods stare at him in shock. "Lost…" Izzy echoes faintly. For a moment, they're still, the fact processing inside them. Then they're off, running through the hall and up the stairs, and Magnus doesn't try to stop them this time.

He turns to exit, but doesn't move towards it, pausing. Then he turns again, instead following Jace and Isabelle, to see Alec again.

* * *

Alone in the room, Alec puts his head in his hands. A tremble starts throughout his body, growing more and more violent until he actually cries in pain from being jostled so much. It breaks him out of the shake, at least. Slowly, he grits his teeth and leans back on the bed, his hands coming up behind his head. He takes in his surroundings.

He's in a large, hospital like room; the walls and sheets and curtains are white. He's guessing it's afternoon, from the sunlight streaming in from the windows, which had initially hurt his eyes. There a couple other beds, both neat, so he seems to be the only occupant of the room. Probably for the better. There are a few other doors as well, besides the one Magnus just left through.

Next he takes a look at himself. He shifts an arm from underneath his head to hold it in front of himself, unfamiliar as he is with his own body. His skin is remarkably pale; which makes the countless scars, oh, there are so many, so much more prominent, and as are the black symbols that appear to be drawn all over his body. He stares at them in fascination; they're an unknown mess of sharp lines, hurriedly done but with precision. Now that he sees them, he can discern faint, white lines, which blend much more with his skin tone but make out to be the same patterns. He lightly traces the raw, red scar down his chest, wincing.

He glances around the room again, absorbing what he can see, lying on his back. He catches his reflection in a tarnished mirror on the far wall to his left. He looks about 18, late teenage years, relatively the same age as Magnus. His hair is pure black, his features are almost delicate, his eyes are light blue, and he wishes there was some familiarity in his own reflection but there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. He closes his eyes. There's nothing to grasp at, in his mind, but he can't help but try. He can't help but strain himself for the tiniest glimpse of familiarity.

Besides, he has nothing else to think about, not remembering anything and all, and the way his mind wants to dart back to the green-gold eyed man – Magnus – well, it's ridiculous. He's known him for all of a minute, or if he's known him before hand, he can't remember it.

Suddenly he can discern footsteps, coming quickly towards him; he stays stretched out, eyes closed, but then he hears the door open. The footsteps stop immediately, and he hears someone whisper, "Is he asleep again?" It's a female voice, and there are notes of worry and anxiety in it.

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

* * *

Isabelle can hardly breathe, and she knows Jace is the same way, standing behind her. They stand in the doorway to the infirmary, not wanting to wake Alec, but when he opens his eyes, and focuses on them, she abandons all thought and is filled with pure joy that her brother is whole. She runs to him and flings herself onto Alec's bed, flinging her arms around him. Of course, then Magnus, behind her, sharply says, "Isabelle!" And she can hear Alec sharply gasp. Returning to reason, she releases pressure immediately, but doesn't leave the bed and doesn't let go of Alec completely; she helps him sit back against the pillows, and brushes his hair away from his face.

"Sorry, Alec!" Isabelle breathes out the words, and she can feel her eyes starting to tear – none of that, she tells herself, you need to be strong right now. She scrutinizes his face carefully, where both exhaustion and pain are present; she cannot, however, see any hint of recognition. Still, he reaches out and smoothes her own hair, and she feels so relieved and happy in that moment she again has to will herself back from crying.

"I'm fine" is all he says.

Alec turns to the door, where Jace and Magnus are walking towards them, but Isabelle keeps her eyes on him. No one says anything until Jace and Magnus are by the bed. She watches Alec's eyes as he looks at Magnus, then Jace, then her. She can't read the expression there.

"I'm sorry" he says.

He has nothing to apologize for, and she tightens at the words, as she feels Jace doing at her side. Alec meets their eyes again. "But I don't – know you. I don't remember you. I don't remember anything." Alec's voice is lost and still apologetic.

Jace kneels next to him, and he and Alec don't break eye contact. She can see determination in Jace's eyes, as she guesses is reflected in her own. "I'm Jace," Jace says firmly, "This is Isabelle. And you're Alec. Alec Lightwood. Our brother."

Isabelle speaks up next, and she can sense the same firmness in her own voice. She feels herself trying hard to keep together, but she is determined to manage. "You've been asleep for a few days now. You were badly hurt, and we were so worried about you –"She swallows hard, not sure if that was the right thing to say. Jace puts a hand on her arm, and she's grateful the gesture of comfort. "You're 18. We're in New York." Pause.

"Oh, and we fight demons." Jace seemingly blurts it out, and Isabelle turns towards him to glare at him. He shrugs innocently. "Thought you should know."

She pushes him off the bed. He rolls with the movement, impacting the ground smoothly, but still gives a cry of protest. Ignoring that, with a rather smug smirk of her own, Isabelle turns back to Alec, who looks actually unsurprised. Her smile softens. "Call me Iz." He nods.

The bed dips as Jace crawls back on it. "Was that necessary? Because I'm thinking it wasn't. No, it was pretty much uncalled for."

Isabelle merely tilts her head at him. "Hardly anything you do is called for, so you can't complain."

"Oh, good luck with that."

Alec's laugh surprises them both, out of their bickering; they turn to him, and he's smiling. "Well, I do get the feeling this is what it's normally like with you 2." He looks better, more comfortable.

Jace smirks at him. "What, you think losing your memory get's you a free pass from sarcasm? Not a chance."

"I'll keep that in mind. You'd think almost dying would though. As I'm assuming that's what happened." Suddenly Alec looks up, and looks behind him, and with a jolt Isabelle realizes Magnus was in the room.

At least, he had been. Now he's gone.

She tightens again, and again feels Jace do the same. She's unsure if Alec notices, but he doesn't comment? "Where did Magnus go?" He asks. Then adds, "And who is he?

Well, shit. She and Jace share a covert look that tells her that he's as unsure as she is. She returns, in that look, a message of _it's all yours._ "He's a warlock" Jace says at last. "We called him in to heal you, because he's done it once before." That hadn't been a pleasant experience either, but honestly, it couldn't compare to the mess they were in now. Jace continues, and he hopes Alec doesn't hear the same hesitance in his voice as she can; she's always been the best liar of the 3 of them. "We don't know him very well. He probably wanted to just leave as soon as he could."

Alec just nods in acceptance, and she bets the veiled relief – and sorrow – on Jace's face mirrors her own.

She turns and looks out the window. Daylight is fading, and Alec looks like he could definitely use more sleep. She's reluctant to leave, but slowly moves to do so. Still being as weak as he is, they decide Alec should spend another night in the infirmary, and as much as she wants to curl next to him and sleep herself, shadowhunters can't rest too much. She hugs him, much lighter this time, and kisses him on the forehead. With every step to towards the door she takes her composure weakens a little more, and she finally darts to the exit, one last glance over her shoulder to her brothers. She runs down the hall, light on her feet, till she's far enough away that she doesn't think they'll hear her. She finally let's herself take the deep, shuddering gasps that she's been holding in, and let's a few tears drip down her cheeks. Then she straightens, resolved and hard again, and walks downstairs.

* * *

Jace makes to leave himself, but something stops him when he reaches the entrance, and he pauses for a moment. Without thinking through what he's doing, he turns suddenly and strides back over to Alec's bed, kneeling once again by his side, locking gaze with Alec's blue eyes, who looks at him inquisitively. He takes Alec's arm with his hand, as gently as he ever does anything, and turns it over, revealing a black, permanent rune on Alec's forearm. He lays his own arm next to Alec; and looks down at their identical Parabatai runes. He still remembers when they became Parabatai with vivid clarity; and he is washed with determination that Alec will too. He looks Alec in the eyes again, and just knows that Alec can see the fire in his own.

"You're going to remember everything. I promise."

Then Jace stands, and still without a second thought, walks out of the room**.**

* * *

Alec stares down at the mark. It tingles a little, and it feels like something's tugging at the back of his mind; and suddenly Alec can picture a laugh, a smile. He sees Jace and Iz joking about something, arguing about something, sparring with him, teasing each other; then it's gone, and he pushes for it, trying to remember more.

He sees shock in their eyes, and feels a rush of phantom pain as he remembers himself speared through and thrown against a wall.

Vaguely, he wants to get up; but he remembers no more than this, and the memories have brought him a fresh headache, and he falls asleep.

With a final, sleepy thought, he muses that he must have really loved these people.

* * *

Isabelle thunders down the stairs. Just because she's resolved to act strong doesn't mean she has to be polite to everyone about it. All the shadowhunters have left, having heard the good news of Alec's recovery and the bad news of his memory and departed for Idris. All, that is, for her parents.

They are waiting, in the grand kitchen, intercepting her as she comes down; they stand at opposite sides of the room, far away from each other as possible, and her gut clenches as she looks at them. "He's sleeping." Is all she gives them, making no effort to keep the hostility out of her voice, but to at least not be screaming at them. She walks past them, to the door on the other side of the room, without catching the eye of either of them.

But at the door, she pauses. Still not turning back around, she says, "Don't bother him. Just stay away from him."

Maryse starts. "As his parents, we should –"

"_No_." Isabelle wheels around, her voice rising. "You _never_ did _anything_ you should have, '_as his parents_.' All you've ever done is hurt him, and don't you _dare_ start again now!"

Her voice has risen to a shout, and she turns again, slamming the door behind her with a considerable amount of force.

She doesn't see her parents' anguished expressions behind her.

* * *

Out of all the scenarios he had considered, out of everything he had feared and had foolishly hoped for – he never thought it would happen this way.

Magnus sits at the table, back in his apartment. He had discreetly slipped out, after bring Izzy and Jace to Alec – it hurt too much, to see their wounded family, it hurt too much to see Alec at all. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Alec's open. He sees Alec look at him with no recognition in those eyes.

Reflecting back on those few moments – all he'd been doing since getting back – Magnus replays every slight touch, every word they exchanged. When Magnus had stood up, told Alec he was going to leave for a minute, Alec had look so lost, and – Magnus couldn't have helped reaching out and touching him, trying to comfort both of them in just the smallest way; he only barely resisted the urge to kiss him.

He's still trying (and trying not to) admit that to himself.

Throwing his head back, he groans. A glass of wine appears in his hand, as he fully intends to get drunk and try to push this back in his mind, for as long as he can; but then, after staring morosely at it for a second, he snaps and changes it to coffee. Black, like Alec liked to drink.

He still figures he can deal with it later.

* * *

The next time Alec opens his eyes, it's morning; he believes it is, at least. The light streaming from the large windows is softer, now, and he can't hear anyone else. He still feels disoriented, but restless, and he slowly manages to haul himself off the bed. One of the doors which had been shut earlier is now open, and he finds there's a bathroom connected to the infirmary; he goes in and is quickly thankful for the shower. He turns the tap on, feeling much better with the water running down him. When he's thoroughly washed up he turns to himself in the bathroom mirror. With another night of sleep, he supposes he looks better than yesterday, but this mirror is much clearer, and at close inspection he finds he still looks like a mess. His skin is still ghostly pale, and the scar, the scar is still deep red. It troubles him he can't remember the story behind it; but as it troubles him to not remember anything, he pushes it back for the time being.

He slips on the fresh clothes someone must have left for him, though leaves the shirt, as he finds it's still too hard to raise his arms and put it on. Much more refreshed now, he goes back to the bed, sitting and stretching as much as he can, releasing some of the aches in his muscles.

He lies back down, sprawled over the sheets, and tries again to remember.

* * *

After spending the night and most of the morning on it, she thinks she has it – something to help Alec. Clary had spent last night sitting at her desk with her sketchbook, concentrating between the paper and the back of her mind until she had eventually fallen asleep, slumping forward with the pen in her hand.

Staring at the black ink design in front of her, Clary remembers her own experience remembering lost memories; the strange sensation of recalling something buried, something extraordinary, that she hadn't even known she's lost. But, she figures, it must be even worse for Alec, to no longer be familiar with his whole life. She packs her sketchbook into a tote, grabs her cell phone, slips on her shoes and calls goodbye to Luke and her mom.

She picks up doughnuts on her way.

Arriving at the institute, she walks in, having grown much more comfortable there after all the recent adventures. Jace and Isabelle, not being particularly early risers, are most likely still asleep, and Maryse and Robert tend to make themselves scarce. In the kitchen, she finds juice and a basket of muffins on the counter, and grabs those along with the doughnuts. Juggling it all, she makes her way up the stairs, not wanting to use the elevator and wake everyone. Still, it would make things easier. Clary muses that maybe Isabelle should have made breakfast. That might spark Alec's memory – after all, Isabelle's cooking probably has suppressed some.

Outside the infirmary, she hesitates. Alec and her are friends, but never particularly close ones, bonded mostly by Jace and Isabelle and a shared worry over Jace's rashness. They certainly had a rocky start. Still, she figures, this way, they can start again. Shifting the box of doughnuts to the other arm, she knocks on the door.

"Come in." Alec's voice is alert, if not entirely full in strength. She opens the door and peeks in.

Alec is half sitting up, half lying down on one of the infirmary beds. His eyes widen a little in surprise when he sees her, probably not expecting anyone he didn't know to show up. He's shirtless, and she swallows at the long scar in his chest. She kicks the door open more.

"Hey, Alec." She fumbles to get through. "I'm Clary." He starts to get up, to help her with her multitude of packages and she wrestles one hand free to wave him down. He does so, sitting upright now with his long legs over the side. She successfully navigates over to him and sets all the food down on the bed beside him, pulling up the nearest chair. "Breakfast," she says. "Want some?"

They both take a doughnut, she pours them juice, and they eat in silence for a moment as she works out the best way to begin. "So, I should probably introduce myself more," she begins. "Clary Fray – well, Morgenstern – you know what, keep it as Clary. I'm a demon hunter, like you – have they covered that?" Alec nods, smiling slightly. "Oh, and I'm dating Jace." She can't help it, but she's pretty sure there's a bit of a blush on her cheeks right now. She takes a sip of juice, and smiles a bit realizing that it's pink.

"I was there when you got hurt. We were all pretty worried about you."

"That does seem to be the common opinion," Alec offers dryly, and she looks up at Alec in mild shock to find yes, he is joking with her. She can't help but noticed that, even like this, in a strange place with people he has no memory of, Alec might be the most relaxed she's ever seen him. "It's nice to meet you," he adds. "Again, I guess."

"Well, hopefully, you'll remember me soon." She takes out her stele, and takes a deep breath. "I think I can help you with it. At least, I can try." She considers. "Have you remembered anything?"

Unexpectedly, he nods. "Last night, nothing – concrete, really, but – I can picture Iz and Jace. Just at random moments, I don't know when or during what, just – laughs. Smiles."

He winces a little. His voice slows, his tone thoughtful. "But, there is one clear scene I can picture. Iz and Jace, and – oh, that's you with them – well, the 3 of you are looking at me with horrified expressions. Then I look down and" The shudder runs through his body again. "There's a huge claw sticking out of me." Both of them look to the scar.

"That was what happened," she says. "What brought along all this." She tries to not picture it herself. Shaking her head a little, her fiery red hair bouncing, she reaches out her hand. "I think I can draw something. I don't know if it will work, but it's a good chance. But" And she withdraws her hand a little, "It's up to you."

Alec puts his hand in hers without any hesitation.

He winces at the burn of the stele, but other than that doesn't flinch, and Clary guesses that physical memory, at least, must have been retained. She concentrates on the angular lines, and keeps her hand steady. Once she's finished, she tucks the stele in her pocket. "Well, I don't know how long it may take to take effect – sometimes they need to be triggered, by something. It's not a science. Don't expect anything."

Alec shrugs. "I figure I need to expect anything at this point."

Clary regards him, and suddenly thinks that maybe, if Alec wasn't a shadowhunter, if he didn't have the expectations of his society weighing down on him – he could have had a very different life. His eyes are missing the hardness she had seen in them before.

That's all she has time to think before Alec gasps.

* * *

The first scene comes rushing into Alec's head like a dam broken loose.

A living room; lived in, comfortable. Jace and Iz are there, as are a couple of people he doesn't know, and – Magnus. Clary has his hand, and is drawing a pattern on it; much like she had only minutes before, and he can feel the sting of it like he just had. The mark, though, is different; Clary finishes, and they all look towards him, asking him how he is. He remembers himself telling Clary, "I'm a demon hunter – clearly I'm not afraid of the dark" Before it fades.

The next memory is more just a glimpse. He's standing in a sea of demon hunters – shadowhunters, he remembers – and there's a tense silence in the air.

Up on a platform, he sees Clary, and Magnus, standing before the crowd.

Despite the demon hunting, and oh, the runes that apparently have magical ability – It's only now that it really hits him that he probably has one of those lives that would be hard to believe.


	3. Still

AN: So

… I should probably just stop making promises.

A note on updates. I apologize! These past two weeks have been ridiculously busy, I've meant to sit down and write the chapter the whole time, but honestly? While it takes no time to actually write, finding time to do so has been really, _exceedingly_ hard.

My goal – when I started writing this, I'd kept myself from making one, but it seems I'm making one anyways – is updating at least weekly from here on out. It's a slow moving story, will be completed in a couple of months, probably. (I'm not posting on AO3 till it's complete, so if you're like me and like to read things the whole way through, you could always for that, whenever that will be – but I appreciate chapter reviews SO MUCH, they _really _do help.)

As for other notes: for one, did anyone catch the references in the precious chapter? For another, thank you so much for all the reviews I've gotten this far! Warnings: Well, there is a bit of language towards the end. That's all for now though.

Again, Please review, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

In front of her Alec's gone still. His eyes remain closed, and Clary is unsure if she should just wait for him to come out of the trance, or if she should do something, because she has already been in so many precarious, hopeless seeming situations that she instinctively feels the need to _move_. And it is a trance, what's happening now, every muscle in Alec's body tight but his face blank, distant. Then he breathes, and opens his eyes, and she too lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

The problem, though, is Alec is looking at her no differently than he had been before; still no recognition of her face visible in his blue eyes. He looks at her, then down at the rune already fading on his skin, then back to her, and there are a million questions in his eyes; she searches them too for an answer.

"Did it work?" She asks hesitantly, as she believes she already knows. Alec shakes his head, and she sighs in disappointment. Still, that doesn't explain why –

"I did see something, though," - oh. She perks up at his words – "I don't know if it's a memory, it's just a – scene." Alec pauses, runs his hands across the bed sheets, an unconscious movement. The rest of the food she'd brought up has remained untouched by both of them.

"We're in a house – you, me, Jace and Izzy, the… warlock from yesterday" (Clary hopes her wince isn't noticeable), "And a couple of others, I don't know who. We're standing in a living room, I think, and" He glances towards the box of doughnuts lying abandoned on the bed, and – oh. Clary's heart jumps in her chest as she realizes the time he's referring to. "Well, sounds ridiculous, but there were doughnuts there too. And you were drawing a mark on my hand. Not this one, but a different one. And I think I told you,"

Clary finishes for him. "I'm a demon hunter. Clearly, I'm not afraid of the dark."

Alec looks surprised. But he smiles at her, and she smiles back. His eyes light up the same way they did when she first saw him truly smile at her, and to be perfectly honest with herself, she has rarely ever seen that smile since.

They both take a muffin, pour juice again, and Clary is pretty content at the moment, thinking that at least they made a start. She notices, though, that Alec still looks thoughtful, and she wonders if that's not all he saw. She decides to wait for him to speak his thoughts.

"Who was the warlock with Jace and Izzy yesterday?"

(She realizes that she probably should have prepared her own.)

Oh, this is not territory she wants to cover, and she takes a bite of muffin to stall. "We had called him in to heal you, because we weren't able to do it on our own. Actually, he's done it before." She keeps her tone as nonchalant as she can and takes another bite.

Alec nods easily. "That's what Jace said."

"Why do you ask?"

"There was one more… scene. It's not nearly as detailed; it's really just an image." Alec looks distant, and Clary is thankful, so that he doesn't notice her nervousness. As much as she wants him to remember, she hadn't taken in to account what would happen if he only remembers selective memories of _Magnus_. He turns back to her, and she carefully keeps it off her face. "You're there too. It's you and him, and you're standing in front of a crowd of people. That's all." And – _oh_.

Despite everything, she can't help but smile.

She tells him simply that she had been presenting a rune; and that Magnus had helped her. It is technically the truth, she muses, if not quite with all context. They end up talking for a while longer, the conversation shifting to more stories, more moments of Alec's forgotten life. Clary can't tell Alec much about himself, to be honest; she hadn't known him well enough, as they really have been only distantly friends (And for a while, enemies, though she's unsure how to bring that up) in the few months she's known him. However, she does tell him about the events of those months, from her meeting the Lightwoods to finding out about her maniacal father and even about thinking she and Jace were siblings, and he takes it all very well considering what a mess it's all been. And she realizes she has a different method of storytelling as well; her sketchbooks are filled with her own memories, all the fantastical things she has now become familiar with.

At one point in their conversation, Alec tells her, "To be honest, it doesn't sound like I liked you very much."

She's unsure what to say to that, because she does think it's true, so she just goes with, "Yeah, I don't think you did."

He tilts his head. "But it also sounds like… we didn't have a great start. And, just from the minutes that I've known you now, you seem like a good person."

"Thanks." She says. And she's honestly pretty touched by that.

* * *

"Who's this?" Alec asks, holding a paper in front of him. Clary shifts to see what he's looking at, recognizes the white hair and cruel expression she had rendered with a few pencil strokes, and shivers. She remembers drawing that picture; Jace had been missing, the Clave had been questioning her nonstop, and in her weary state she barely had registered what she had been drawing till he stood full formed on the paper.

Jonathan isn't looking back at her, in the drawing. He's looking off into the distance, as if at a secret. The smirk on his lips seems to say, there, there is a weapon. There is something you do not know. I have power you know nothing of. The glint in his eyes, made clear by only a couple of lines, is taunting, greedy. The overall effect is almost a message; it's as if Jonathan is saying, "I cannot lose".

Clary thinks that maybe she's reading too much into it; after all, it's her drawing, and only that, a drawing. Still, she knows from plenty of experience now that drawings can be powerful themselves – and when she had been drawing it, she couldn't imagine what in the world Jonathan was looking at.

She shakes it off. "That's my brother," she says softly. Alec's eyes flicker up to her face, then down again to the paper, analyzing.

"You look nothing alike," he says.

Clary smile, a bit ruefully. "Yeah, we don't." She shifts again, leaning back against the cold wall. "I'm pretty glad we don't, actually."

Alec says nothing, but continues to look thoughtfully at her.

The door creaks, and they both look over. Isabelle and Jace walk in, Jace raising an eyebrow when he sees them; they're sitting side by side on Alec's hospital bed, backs against the wall, surrounded by paper and pastries. He snags a doughnut, smiles. "Hey, Clary, Alec. Been up long?"

Clary smiles back at him, reaches up and takes the doughnut from him, stealing a bite herself. "Thought you'd never wake up."

* * *

Isabelle and Jace sit on the bed as well, helping themselves to the muffins ("You didn't make these, right, Isabelle?") and using Alec's and Clary's cups. Alec and Clary fill them in on their attempt to get his memory back, the rune Clary had created, the two scenes Alec had managed to recover. Jace and Isabelle together, but mainly Jace, finish off the rest of the doughnuts, ("Really, I brought a dozen, there's only four of us, that is a lot of sugar."). They continue to flip through the sketchbooks, together now. Clary can see Jace's eyes harden when he sees the one of Jonathan, but he passes it on without comment. Alec picks one up, buried beneath others, and she swallows hard.

"And who's this?" Alec asks softly. He places the paper in the middle of them, and no one says anything at first. It's the only drawing Clary has ever done of him, and she had drawn it from memory; messy black hair, glasses, small frame, young face. Absorbed in a manga, Max sits in the institute library, the large chair accentuating his youth. Isabelle touches the edge of it, carefully, like it really does hold a memory in itself.

"That's Max," She says. "He's our brother."

"He was our brother." Jace says, not looking up from the drawing. Finally he lifts his head up, looks to Alec. "He died."

Isabelle nudges him a little with her shoulder. "He still is our brother, though. He'll always be."

They talk some more, chat over the various sketches, tell stories of the demons Jace took down and the dinners Isabelle blew up. They walk around the institute, and Alec rolls his eyes when they try to go slowly for his sake, ("I'm all right, you're already making me use crutches, really, I'm _fine._") They're in the library, the room Alec already feels most at home in, when she gets a call from Luke.

She reaches up, kisses Jace goodbye. Isabelle and Alec smile at them, and she rolls her eyes back. "I'll see you later."

As she leaves the room, she looks over her shoulder; the Lightwood siblings are sitting on one of the large couches, Isabelle with her head thrown back in laughter at whatever Jace had said, Alec looking fondly at them both. They make quite a picture, she thinks. She lets the door swing closed, but keeps the picture in her mind. Saving it to be drawn later.

* * *

"Isabelle, _no_."

Turning around to where Alec is sitting at the island, Jace goes on vehemently, "Trust me, we do not want her to do this. Anyone would want to suppress memory of her cooking. We can order something, this is unnecessary – Isabelle, put that down!"

"C'mon," Isabelle retorts, standing by the stove, "I have this recipe I really want to try, and all the ingredients are here. It's just once, and maybe you'll like it."

Alec glances at the paper she's holding. It looks simple enough, but that just makes him more wary of the seemingly random collection of products she's pulling out of the fridge. Doughnuts and juice and sugar aside, he is hungry, and would prefer the food to be, well, edible. He silently slides the cell phone on the island down to Jace, who grins and winks at him. "Pizza?" He mouths, and Alec nods back.

"Maybe I'll like it," Jace says cheerfully, dialing a number, "but given the number of times I haven't, I think the chances are slim." Without looking up, Isabelle makes to hit him with a spatula, and without looking up, he ducks.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings and Jace goes to answer it while Isabelle slides onto the stool next to Alec with a huff; those twenty minutes had been spent by Jace and Alec trying to persuade Isabelle not to cook, Alec by words and logic and Jace by trying to physically block her from the pantry, cutlery, and all other tools and appliances. "It's not fair," She complains to Alec. "You don't even know what my cooking is like right now."

"I think I get the idea," Alec tells her, and she slaps him lightly on the back of the head with the spatula, but she's smiling too.

Jace comes back with the boxes; Alec can't imagine why Jace thought three people could eat two pizzas, but given the way they powered through breakfast, he supposes they might actually finish them. "Hey, why don't I try making pizza?" Isabelle says, less a question than a statement. Jace quickly puts the boxes on the island.

"Izzy, you tried."

"That was a long time ago!"

"And now anytime will still be too soon!"

Jace looks for plates, still not trusting Isabelle with free reign in the kitchen, and Alec follows him with his eyes, memorizing the contents of each cabinet, trying to fill his lost memory with even the tiniest details. He watches his siblings, and he is pleased it feels natural to think of them like that, bicker back at forth, tossing insults he knows they don't really mean, falling into a clearly long-established rhythm. He's quiet as they eat, choosing instead to listen, and soak up what they say, and while he can't say it feels familiar, it never feels awkward. Eventually, he can't help but smile, because it feels so easy to think of them as _family_.

* * *

Summer's fading, and it's evident throughout the city - Brooklyn is colder than Isabelle remembers, colder than that night they wandered through to that first wild party, the night they first met the warlock with the slight accent and the green-golden eyes. The sun's still high out in the sky, but she can't suppress a shiver; maybe, she thinks, she's only imagining it.

She and Jace walk quickly, side by side. They have nothing on them but light jackets and a few obligatory weapons. They never go anywhere without at least a seraph and a stele, and that's the way it's been since she was ten; before that, she was never let out alone, and so barely left the institute at all, what with Hodge never leaving and her parents always gone, Jace and Alec often off together, not always letting her go with them. She doesn't know why she's having these thoughts now, though; not, she thinks almost guiltily, when her brother needs her.

They had left Alec at the institute, in the library, where he was already most at home. They'd told him they had to go out on nephillim business, would be back sometime that evening. That wasn't the truth, or the whole of it, actually. They just didn't know if what they were going to attempt would work, and so didn't want to make any promise they couldn't keep. Isabelle hates herself for it, but she can't help how all her hope is pinned on this.

She stops abruptly, on the sidewalk. Jace takes a few more steps before realizing she isn't moving. He turns around, sighs. Isabelle can see how impatient he is, and nervous too, like she is.

"What?" Is all he says.

She doesn't budge. "What if he won't help?"

Jace just sighs again, and walks back towards her, slowly. "You know as well as I do," and his voice is softer, "That he will."

"But what if, Jace?" She demands. "What if he doesn't?"

Her brother takes her hand. Says determinedly, "No matter what, we will find a way to fix this."

Isabelle grips his hand tight, reassured by the touch. "Okay," She says, and it comes out breathy. "We will. We're going to save Alec, completely this time." She had been so happy, so hopeful that morning, upon hearing that Alec had remembered even the slightest sliver of memory. Keeping it in her mind, they begin walking again, slower.

She's not quite sure if she really hears Jace murmur "I'm not sure _saving _is the right word" or if she imagines that too.

* * *

This time the knock on the door is a single, staccato note.

Magnus, after all his centuries of life (happy years and sad years and multitudes in between), has picked up a certain knack of being able to read people, to read details gone unnoticed by most, to sense the emotions behind the simplest of gestures. It's a skill picked up subconsciously, developed over oh so many years but probably starting all the way back to when he was treading carefully around his mother and stepfather.

Sometimes those years are still hard to think about. He's mostly come to peace with them – accepting that they happened, and can't be changed now – but he still dislikes large bodies of water and has a fear of drowning, (and only, he has another painful thought, _Alec_ would be worth facing it.)

He senses harsh control in the brevity of that single knock, desperation in the force of it, and anxiety in the quiet after; as he makes his way to the door, he knows that whomever is on the other side means business, has something weighing heavily on them, and is rather sure that he wants nothing to do with it.

Despite this, he is still surprised to see Jace and Isabelle Lightwood standing at his door for the second day in a row.

For the briefest of moments he just stands there, hand slipping off the doorknob, disbelieving that they actually had the _nerve_ to show up again, that they would even _appear_ in front of him, that they would come and give him even more grief even though he was hurting more than _enough_ already without their help. That brief moment is long enough for Jace and Isabelle to push their way past him and step into his apartment without a word from either of them, most likely to ensure he wasn't able to slam the door in their faces.

"What in the world are you doing here again?" Magnus snaps, exasperation and irritation coloring his tone, covering the rasp, raw sound that had been his voice for the past day. He'd barely used his voice since getting back from the institute the previous day, after all, listening to the many voicemails that had accumulated but not returning any calls, only speaking the occasional thought out loud or to chide Chairman Meow. He goes ahead and shuts the front door none too gently, deciding he could snap them out of his apartment and then strand them somewhere in the Indian Ocean if he so desired later.

Neither of them answer him. They stand in Magnus' living room, not touching anything, not even facing him, but Magnus doesn't miss the way their eyes sweep the room. He wonders what they're thinking, wonders if they notice the absence of blue. Then discards those thoughts in favor of keeping his shields up around him.

"Well?" He says, crossing his arms and blatantly glaring at them. Another pause, a beat of terse silence that wraps around them. While he was surprised they showed up, he knows what they're there for. A sickening sort of dread pools inside him that tells him maybe he doesn't want them to say it out loud after all.

He had barely slept the past night, just sat at his giant bedroom window, wearing off the alcohol till he was sober; all the while haunted by the image of Alec looking at him without knowing who he was. That look again crosses his mind, far too fresh and vivid for him to cope with.

That picture in his mind, and the Lightwood siblings continued silence, washes him with a new wave of irritation that borders of hapless fury.

"Why," He spits out, the words rolling thick and tasting bitter in his mouth, "do you continuously show up, continuously make your presence here and bother me, when I made it very clear that I never wanted to see _any_ of you again –"

Isabelle whirls around to face him. "This isn't about you." Her words are equally steeled, carved sharp. It's like a sudden, momentary break in a dam; Magnus can just sense the emotion she'd been holding back, ready to flood. Jace takes a step towards her, but she holds up a hand to stop him, not even glancing at him – her gaze remains locked with Magnus. "Don't be so arrogant to assume that we'd be here if we had any other choice, or that we _want_ to be here!"

"But you are." Magnus counters, not thinking anymore, swept up in the rising air of rage. It's finally, finally starting to crack between them, the unspoken tension they share, and Magnus _wants_ it to. "And I don't want you to be either."

"But we have to be!" Isabelle screams, is screaming at the top of her lungs at him now, wild and breaking. "Because you're the only one who can help him!"

"And why," Magnus says, voice lower but matching in intensity, do you think I'd want to?"

The silence that follows is even more loaded than the one that preceded it.

Magnus' doesn't break gaze with Isabelle; in her eyes is an almost unmistakable _hatred_, and Magnus knows they're both so caught up in emotion but is almost relieved, because hatred, he can deal with.

Jace speaks next though, breaking them out of their argument, or rather throwing himself into it. "What do you even mean?" He asks, his voice almost disbelieving.

"Exactly what I said, _shadowhunter_." Magnus says, his voice dripping with bitterness, no longer making any attempt to stay aloof and impartial to their situation. "I don't want to help him; I don't want to _see_ him again."

Isabelle laughs, no humor in it. "It's not like he'd recognize you if he saw you." Magnus feels a fresh stab of pain in his chest at this.

"But you don't mean that." Jace says. His voice is almost steady (almost), and Magnus can't help but hate _him _a little for it. "I know you don't."

Now Magnus laughs, the sound equally devoid of humor or light. "No, you don't. You don't know _me_. You can't pretend otherwise."

"That's true, I don't know you – completely." Jace's golden eyes are burning, but Magnus looks back into them without any hesitation. "But Alec did."

Magnus laughs again, and this time it's almost a self-deprecating sound. "No, he didn't."

"But he wanted to. And he tried to."

Magnus knows that this is true, so doesn't try to deny it; he doesn't concede, either. "That doesn't mean anything now. And it doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?" Isabelle says, and he _hates _how raw the hurt is in her voice. "He _loved_ you."

"Well he doesn't anymore, and that's a good thing!" Magnus shouts.

"How?" Jace shouts back. "How is that good? You made him _happy_, okay, you made him happier than _I've ever seen him before_!"

Magnus watches as he sees Jace realize he'd blurted out a truth that he himself hadn't even been aware of before.

The silence is back, and it's again broken by Jace again. "It's true. Alec has – he's never been so happy before. We could tell, even when he wasn't with you, he - he's never been so open, with me or Isabelle. He lost some of his shields, shields that I hadn't even known he had in the first place." And Magnus knows, looking in Jace's eyes, that not only is he the only one in pain over Alec, he's also not the only one feeling _guilty_ about it. "Looking at him now…" Jace continues, and his voice gets uncharacteristically quiet, and _defeated_, "It's like, looking at the person he could have been. If he hadn't had this life."

None of them are able to say anything to that.

"Listen," Isabelle starts again, after silence has choked them all for a few long moments, "please." Her voice has none of energy Magnus is used to hearing from her anymore. "We want – we _need _our brother back. We need his memory back, and he needs it to. You're the only one who's even possibly capable of getting it back, and so we need your help."

Magnus shuts his eyes. "Again – why would I help him?"

"Because," and Isabelle doesn't say it with fire behind it; she doesn't say it with hatred, either. She says it like it's the only truth she knows, the only fact left that can be taken for granted, when for Magnus, it's anything but. "You still love him."

Magnus keeps his eyes closed for a long time, and again, no one says anything; this time, though, the silence is waiting, instead of empty; finally, finally, he sighs.

"That may be; or it may not.

That isn't, though, why I'll help you."

He grabs a jacket, again tries to ignore the relief in the eyes of Jace and Isabelle, for the second day in a row going to see the last person he still cares about, and at the moment, he's too exhausted to even wish that he didn't.

* * *

"Did Alec ever mention a key?"

"What?" Jace puts down the seraph he'd been idly turning in his hands and glances over to where Magnus is sitting, opposite him and Isabelle. They'd decided to take the subway back, for no reason in particular, and were alone in the subway car - the subway unusually empty for what should be a busy time, and Jace briefly wonders if there's something behind that they should be looking into, but easily dismisses it, as they have more important things to concern themselves with.

Magnus is sitting with his arm along the top of the seats, one leg across the other, looking out the window but not seeming to be particularly focused on anything.

"Before the accident, after we – broke up, did he mention a key to you?" Magnus asks again, eyes flickering to Jace only for an instant.

"No, he didn't." Jace answers slowly, unsure what Magnus is talking about, his tone unreadable.

Magnus says nothing though, only hums a response, and continues to look out the window, lost in his thoughts.


	4. Hope

So

It's been awhile? If anyone here checked my profile/is keeping up on tumblr (it's changed again), then you'd have seen my decision to not post anymore of this story until I've completely finished it. - I am not quite done yet, but I decided to post this chapter anyways. If you go look at either above, you can see why (And you could read excerpts of the future chapters/other pieces I'm working on? And give feedback? Because I appreciate it so much!) But this chapter is shorter, and I simply couldn't just leave the story there for now, so – here.

Reviews, as always, are absolutely wonderful.

* * *

They say they're his parents.

It's not that he doesn't believe them, exactly; he – does – It's just the way they're looking at him. The way they look at each other (they don't.) There's sadness, and desperation, and – disappointment. And – the smallest bit of desperate hope.

They're walking on glass around him, so many walls thrown up that he's left almost completely in the dark about the possible causes of this emotion he sees. He keeps his guard up himself. He doesn't remember a single memory of them, and he feels uneasy around them, like he'll say something he shouldn't and they'll – what? Get angry at him? Walk away? Just continue looking at him like he's _failed_?

The thought occurs to him that maybe he doesn't remember them at all because he doesn't want to.

* * *

The stained glass windows are gorgeous – he'd noted them briefly earlier when touring with Jace and Isabelle, but now that he's looking closer he's fascinated. The technique is good, done basic but smoothly as not to draw attention to it. What captures his interest is the scenes they portray. An angel, hovering over a man, basked in light. A lake and a gleaming city beyond it. Staring at them, he feels almost nostalgic – not like a memory, but something more than that, something that runs in his blood. It's hard to pinpoint. What's even harder to discern is the feeling of guilt that comes with it.

Unfortunately, he might enjoy them even more if he wasn't trying to distract himself from the two others in the room. The two adults who sit on opposite sides of the dining table - Maryse and Robert, they'd introduced themselves as - both watch him while trying to make it look like they aren't doing so. There's not much to say to them, and apparently they don't have much to say to him either. For people who claim to be his parents, they're acting like he's as much a stranger to them as they are to him.

"What's going on here?"

The three startle out of their half-hearted conversation and Alec turns to see Isabelle standing in the doorway, eyes on the people behind him. Alec is only half surprised at the immediate rush of relief her presence gives him. What does surprise him, though, is the outright hostility that she's looking at her – our, he corrects himself – parents. She looks like she'd like to forcibly remove them both from the room, and none too gently, only she doesn't want to so much as touch either of them. None of this is said, of course, but Alec is quite certain that both Maryse and Robert are identifying this sentiment as well. They meet Isabelle's gaze, without flinching. Almost.

Izzy looks at Alec for a mere instant, with eyes that seem to tell him, _one moment_, before she's pinned her eyes back on their parents. Stepping in to the room, she stands behind Alec's chair and puts a hand on his shoulder. "What are you two doing here?" She demands.

Maryse answers immediately – "We heard that Alec was recovering, we wanted to see him ourselves" – But Izzy cuts her off. "Please leave" she says bluntly.

Neither of them look happy, but they get up and exit the room, in opposite directions, without another word.

Izzy visibly deflates when they've gone, exhaling like she's been holding her breath. "Are you okay?" Alec asks her, despite that it's rather clear that she's not.

"I really hate them" Izzy murmurs, sitting on the table.

"That was pretty obvious" Alec responds, because really, what do you say when you find out your parents apparently dislike you and your sister openly hates them?

Iz still smiles, though, a wry twist of the lips that looks genuine at least. "I can't really help it. Can't say I've cared to try." She stretches, and changes the subject. "So we have a new idea."

Alec tips back in his chair, resting it on two legs. "Yeah?"

"It's worth a shot." Jace walks in and pushes Alec's chair forwards; the front legs hit the ground with a soft thud and Alec twists around to see him.

And sees someone else walk in to the room behind him.

It's the guy from earlier, the one who had healed him and saved his life; the guy with the striking eyes and the graceful way of holding himself, the guy who Alec thinks had told him he would be alright. He hasn't forgotten his name, at least, from the previous day; Magnus. He meets Alec's eyes for a split second before looking away. It's silent as he comes up, sits on the table next to Isabelle, and places a large book next to him. Everyone seems to be holding their breath.

When the man finally speaks, it's in the same smooth voice he hadn't realized that he'd _missed_ until now; he's not sure what's up with that. (He does notice how uncomfortable all three of them look, Jace and Isabelle looking at him like there's a chance he might break, the man now looking at him again with something akin to sadness.) "This book might be able to help you" he starts, and each word is almost carefully said, before it turns almost sarcastic. "God knows it's helped with memory issues in the past."

Rather than question what he means by that, Alec asks, "Magnus, right?"

He thinks the man flinches. He's certain that Jace does, standing next to him with one hand on Alec's chair, but he doesn't look at him; he keeps his eyes on the man in front of him. Still, the man's voice is steady when he replies. "Magnus Bane." He actually smiles a little. "At your service." Picking up the book again, he looks down, breaking their gaze. "Let's get started, shall we?"

If Alec's being honest with himself, Magnus Bane fascinates him. He pushes that though away for now.

"All I want you to do" Magnus continues, flipping through the book delicately until stopping at particular page, "Is look at this, to start. It's been known to help magic-related memory loss – yours is simply due to a blow to the head and near death experience, but it may help nonetheless." He holds the book out to Alec, who takes it like it might crumble into dust.

There's a symbol composed of black streaks on the page like the one Clary had drawn on him earlier. He frowns. "I don't think this is really going to do anything." He gently outlines the mark with his finger. It does seem somehow familiar though. "But-"

That is, of course, how far he gets before he blacks out for the second time that day.

* * *

_ The lights around them are dim and multicolored, flashing in time with the music, and there's a sea of people surrounding them, and Alec can't quite believe that this is someone's home, - and even if it is, why the hell would they want so many people here anyways?_

_ They follow the warlock making his way fluidly through the crowd, down the hallway and away from the laughter and music, into a separate room that's very, very colorful. Alec takes in the floor length windows to the bright curtains that hang around it as Magnus shuts the door behind them and leans against it._

_ They're there for Clary; already she and Jace are interrogating Magnus none too courteously, not, Alec thinks, like he's one to talk. The warlock sighs, crosses the room to a large bookshelf, takes one large book off of it – the book –_

* * *

Magnus reaches out and steadies Alec with both hands, Alec having gone suddenly still, by reflex; Jace has a hand on his shoulder too and Isabelle had started up (They're such protective siblings, he takes a split second to muse,) and Alec is already coming back and he takes his hands off him before he's alert enough to notice.

He does, of course, make sure Alec's completely alright before letting go of him entirely, and if his hands linger a second too long against Alec's collarbone he'll get mad at himself for that later.

"Are you alright?" Isabelle asks Alec, who sighs.

"Besides the fact that I've lost my memory and just blacked out for the second time today, I'm doing pretty well." He says almost offhandedly, and turns back to Magnus, who examines his eyes intently. "I saw something" Alec says bluntly, "it didn't bring everything back, just a single scene in particular." Everyone watches him, waiting for him to elaborate, and he sighs again. "I think we're at your home – your apartment," he directs to Magnus, tilting his head like he tends to do when thinking – Magnus's hands tighten – "Isabelle's not there but Jace and Clary are. You presented the same book to her. That's all."

Oh. Yes, Magnus knows the party he's talking about instantly – how could he forget? It was the first time he'd met the shadowhunters, the first time he's seen Alec. It's all too clear, really; opening the door and being instantly confronted by Jace and Clary and their issues, and then seeing Alec (instantly thinking, now _that_ one's gorgeous).

Alec's memory loss now seems clearer as well, but he's really not looking forward to how they're going to work this out.

He briefly touches his hand to his forehead – he can already feel a headache coming on in light of this new concept. Isabelle descends on the motion immediately. "Well? Do you have any ideas?" Alec's still looking at him as well.

And Magnus looks back. "It doesn't give us much to work on. But studying this rune didn't release your memory like it would have under magic – again, your memory loss isn't magic related. What it did do, though, is release a memory of a similar event. It's simple." In his head, he thinks, _not really_.

"Was it the magic, though?" It's Jace talking now, still standing with one hand on his brother's shoulder. "Clary used runes too, and that's when Alec's memory first started coming back. So is it related to the mark?

Magnus shakes his head. He doesn't think it is, unfortunately, because that would almost make it easier; a spell could be done and Alec would remember everything and he would leave before everything deteriorated. But no, he can't solve everything with a wave of his hands, a bitter truth that's been ingrained in him several times now. "That could boost it, but it's not the main reason."

Focus on the problem at hand, he tells himself, rather than get caught up again. Another thought occurs to him. "Your memory may return in fragments – it can most likely be triggered by strong emotion. Moments that really made an impact to you will probably be easiest to recover, and will probably be triggered by situations that aren't just similar to the ones you were in, but produce similar feeling." He jolts out of this musing to suddenly realize himself what exactly he's explaining.

Jace and Isabelle have tensed up and realize it too. The strongest emotions in Alec's life were his protectiveness and love for his siblings, his love for _Magnus_; the devastation they caused each other.

They are now, Magnus thinks, even more fucked up than they were at the start of this mess.

* * *

Magnus stands suddenly. "I'll research more into this," he says curtly. His eyes sweep all of them, and then he closes them. "I'll tell you when I have more information." Jace looks like he wants to argue, but doesn't, and Alec feels the hand on his shoulder tighten its grip.

Isabelle jumps off the table too. "I'll walk you out", she says. They've both made it clear that the conversation is over.

Jace says nothing; Alec's not sure what to say himself. "Goodbye" seems silly; so does "Please stay", but that, for some reason, is what springs to his mind. He settles for "Thanks."

Magnus just looks at him, nods, and then he's gone.

* * *

They're both silent as they walk through the hall, boots clicking on the marble floor and eyes fixed straight ahead. Isabelle finally risks a look at Magnus; she stops and actually studies him for a moment. The book is cast under his arm loosely, none of the great care present like it had been before. He stands straight and walks gracefully like he always does, but it does look like he at least has to make a little effort to hold together. Yet his eyes are bright.

When they reach the large doors of the institute, Magnus turns to her. Crosses his arms, and studies her back. Silence reigns for a moment, before he breaks it with a sarcastic smile. "Well, guess we're not really any farther, are we?"

Isabelle doesn't respond directly to the comment. She feels her heart go out to him, as well; she hates him for hurting her brother, she can't help it, but she loved him too, she had considered him part of her family, and truthfully, she still does. She notices, but doesn't comment on, his use of _we_. She doesn't think he realizes it himself.

Instead, all she says is, "Thanks for helping." She means it so much it hurts.

"Not like you gave me much of a choice, hm." He turns and begins making his way down the stairs, but adds, "I'll be back."

She says nothing, but watches him as he walks away, and hopes not only for her brother to remember everything but also for them both to be happy again.

* * *

Once they've left the room, Alec looks up at him. "Are you okay?"

Jace wonders why its Alec asking _him_ that, because it should obviously be the other way around, before he realizes that he's been gripping Alec's shoulder for five minutes straight. Uncurling his hand, he pulls a chair away from the table and tosses himself down in it. "I'm fine." He says. He's not, of course, but he's been lying for a long time.

But Alec seems to pick up on that, and, because some things about Alec will never change, he voices it. "No you're not."

And another thing, Jace thinks, which will never change about Alec, is that Jace feels better around him; from a young age he's known how to use sarcasm to keep people at a distance, and how to keep himself locked up. But even though even Alec couldn't always break down the walls Jace put around himself, he – stuck with him anyways. Unconditionally, he was there. And Jace had actually grown used to it, actually started feeling like there was someone who he could trust at his back. His parabatai. His relationship with Alec wasn't like his relationship with Clary – he's constantly worrying he might lose her, but he always took Alec for granted. He never realized that maybe Alec was keeping himself locked away too.

He smiles, tired but bright and sharp and real; he asks him, "Is anyone?"

Alec smiles back, and they sit quietly, comfortably, for a moment. They're both leaning casually back in their chairs, legs sprawled in front of them, and they must look just like regular teenagers for once, and for a moment it's like before, before Alec lost his memory and before Jonathan started fighting them and before Valentine stepped back in to Jace's life and started making it difficult for them. It's just the two of them. It's timeless.

Then Alec asks thoughtfully, "How do you – well, we – know Magnus?"

Another beat of quiet, more anticipatory this time. And Jace knows he can't just give Alec the outright, heavy truth – he doesn't even know how he would do so – but he's tired of covering things up and he's tired of half-lying. "We needed his help once. He helped us. He's stayed in our lives since."

He hesitates, then adds, "You knew him best."

Alec looks curious, but doesn't question it. Jace internally pledges that after Alec gets his memory back, _when_ it's back, he will try to never lie or fucking hide things from him again, because out of anybody Alec deserves the truth.

* * *

Dinner passes, Isabelle again attempting to cook and Alec and Jace again warding her off; Clary shows up, catches Jace's eye over Isabelle's shoulder, and picks up her cell phone and a takeout menu before Isabelle notices she's there.

They talk and eat and scuffle and laugh; Alec should really probably still be on crutches but can't be bothered to use them, and once the immediate crisis is adverted apparently none of the others care much about physical safety either. They don't spend much time telling stories or even much talking about themselves; they all agree they can't change much anymore tonight; but Alec feels like he's starting to really learn who they are again anyways.

That night he sleeps in his own room, and it doesn't seem all that familiar, honestly, or even friendly. But he's tired, so he lies on the bed and closes his eyes, and the next morning he won't know if he dreamt it or remembered it right before he fell asleep, but he sees the same memory as before, sees Jace, Clary, him and Magnus is Magnus' colorful room, and he remembers telling Magnus, _You can't help the way you were born_.

He thinks, right before slipping into unconsciousness, that you can't help a lot of things. But you can make of them what you will.


End file.
